Ray went. By nine-thirty that evening he had told Cora about the Invention. And Cora had turned sidewise in her seat next to him at the theatre and had looked up at him adoringly, awe-struck. “Why, how perfectly wonderful! I don’t see how you think of such things.”

“Oh, that’s nothing. I got a lot of ideas. Things I’m going to work out. Say, I won’t always be plugging down at Nagel’s, believe me. I got a lot of ideas.”

“Really! Why, you’re an inventor, aren’t you! Like Edison and those. My, it must be wonderful to think of things out of your head. Things that nobody’s ever thought of before.”

Ray glowed. He felt comfortable, and soothed, and relaxed and stimulated. And too large for his clothes.